A Day In the Life
by OCD ADD Goldfish
Summary: Collection of one-shots featuring Harry and all his year-mates, featuring various genre's as well as Romance, Family, Angst, etc. 1) Hermione, 2) Pansy, 3) Megan J., 4) Oliver R, 5) Terry B., 6) Blaise, 7) Seamus, 8) Goyle, 9) Anthony G, 10) Morag M.
1. Hermione Granger

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the world of H.P. For "The 1991 Challenge" and "The If You Dare Challenge".

**A/n: **Basically, each "chapter" will feature one of the original 40 and a day in their life. Not necessarily connected or in any order.

**Prompts:** Grating on My Nerves (#492), Books.

**~x~X~x~**

_**A Day in the Life:**_

**Hermione Granger**

**~x~X~x~**

Hermione felt nervous as she climbed the stairs towards the girl's dorm. This was the first time in her life that not only would she be sleeping away from home, but would also have to share a room with other girl's her age.

Though she didn't want to get her hopes up, as she'd never before been able to make friends, she couldn't help feeling hope and excitement.

Shutting the door behind herself, being the last into the room, she quickly moved into the room and studied the other girls.

Parvati Patil, a pretty girl with amazingly smooth, dark hair was chattering with ease to a blonde girl she'd met on the train named Lavender Brown.

Sophie Roper, a very tall, slender girl with light brown hair was arranging a pile of books on the table beside her bed which caused Hermione's hopes to soar as she moved over to her own bed.

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked curiously, loud enough for Sophie to hear. The girl turned slowly and looked at Hermione with a shrug.

"The Adventures of a Dead Auror," Sophie replied and at Hermione's blank look, elaborated. "It is a fiction mystery series revolving of a ghost who was an Auror by the name James Hart, who in spite of being dead, refuses to stop working to catch Dark Wirzards."

"An Auror?" Hermione asked, though finding her curiosity piqued, even though she herself had never really been interested in mystery novels.

"You're a muggle-born, aren't you?" a sharp, husky voice called, causing Hermione to turn and look at the last girl in their dorm.

Medea Runcorn had black hair, dark eyes and though she barely seemed any taller than Hermione and wore glasses, somehow the girl seemed very intimidating.

"Yes," Hermione replied uncertainly, wondering why that mattered.

Medea Runcorn rolled her eyes as she flopped back onto the bed as the dorm suddenly became silent.

"Don't talk to her, Sophie," the dark-haired girl commanded. Sophie flushed as she shot Hermione an apologetic look before turning around.

"Why can't she talk to me?" Hermione asked, feeling both offended, and indignant.

"Because if father hears Sophie made friends with a mudblood, things will be very nasty for us at home, worse than it already is," Medea replied coldly, causing Hermione to frown in further confusion.

"You can't say that!" Parvati cried.

"Say what?" Hermione asked.

"Mudblood!" Lavender responded, looking every bit as indignant as Parvati.

"Why not?" Hermione asked once more, feeling her stomach knotting as the tension continued to mount, feeling completely lost and a little bit hurt that the one girl that seemed like she might get on with, was being bossed by another girl not to talk to her.

"It's a dirty word!" Lavender replied.

"Would you all shut up already! You're gating on my nerves," Medea suddenly spoke, her voice almost sounding like a growl but from where she lay, she didn't move.

"If Sophie wants to talk to someone, you can't force her not to!" Hermione tried to get the conversation back on track.

Medea turned her head ever so slightly and despite the blank expression on her face, the way she glared at Hermione from the corner of her black-framed glasses, her dark eyes glinting dangerously made Hermione almost shiver with fear.

"Actually, it's better if we don't," Sophie spoke softly, though she didn't turn and continued to fuss with her books nervously, and Hermione felt her heart sink. "I don't want Medea to be punished because of me."

"Punished by who?" Parvati asked, frowning.

"Wait... do you live together?" Lavender asked, sounding as confused as Parvati. "How?"

"We're step-sisters," Medea replied with an exasperated tone. "Now leave us the bloody hell alone!"

And with that, Hermione, Lavender and Parvati exchanged uncertain and peeved glances before moving back to their own beds to get ready to go to sleep.

But as Hermione slipped into her own clothes, trying to ignore Medea's watchful glare and Sophie's fidgety movements, she felt her heart shriveling with disappointment.

Parvati was nice enough, and Lavender could be friendly, but she had a feeling that like so many other girls she'd known before, that they would only grow to make fun of her in time. Already, the two girl's had bonded and Hermione knew she was never going to fit in with them.

Sophie had seemed like...

But Hermione shook her head as she crawled into bed and closed the curtains around it. With a sigh, she curled on her side, ignoring the gnawing loneliness inside herself.

She'd made it thus far with just books for company. What was seven more years?

Besides, just because her best friend couldn't be one of her dormmates, it didn't mean friends were a complete lost cause, did it? After all, there were three other houses.

But as her eyes slowly shut, Hermione wondered if perhaps, she wouldn't have been better off in Ravenclaw as the hat had suggested.

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**A/n:** Review please!


	2. Pansy Parkinson

**Prompt:** Demented Sister (#563), December

_**Pansy Parkinson**_

Pansy walked through the manor, not sure how she was supposed to feel to be back home now that it was December.

She supposed that she should be happy, after all it meant that she didn't have classes, or work to deal with. That she didn't have to pretend to tolerate Daphne or Tracey, both who made her seethe with envy for their good-looks.

But it also meant not being able to see Draco. It meant that the protection of Hogwarts from her older sister, was also gone.

Peony, her demented older sister, had completely ignored her while they were at Hogwarts. Something that Pansy had felt rather grateful for.

And yet... somehow it had been deeply unsettling and now that they were home, Pansy wasn't really sure what to expect form the sixteen year old girl.

"What are you stalking around for?" Pansy jumped at the sound, a shriek escaping her throat as she whirled around and stared up at the girl behind her.

Taking several steps back, Pansy glared up at Peony who was pretty, tall and had glossy dark hair that fell a few inches past her shoulders. As if it wasn't enough that Peony was pretty, she was also extremely smart.

"Don't do that! You nearly scared me right out of my skin!"

"Merlin Pansy, would you shut your mouth. You're so damn loud and annoying," Peony said with her dark eyes shining with annoyance, her face twisted with disgust. "Anyway, mother wanted me to tell you to make yourself ready. Our guest will be arriving soon. Along with Primrose," Peony went on, her lip curling with bitterness at the mention of Prim.

Pansy felt her stomach twist and sink. If there was anything in the world worse than Peony, it was their oldest sister Primrose... the beauty of the family and also the cruelest person Pansy had ever met, though no one else seemed to see it apart from Peony.

"Prim is coming?" Pansy asked, feeling her face pale and her hands turn cold.

"Of course she is, you daft cow," Peony replied, narrowing her dark eyes on Pansy. "You're so stupid Pansy," she went on, rolling her eyes and marching away.

"I'm already ready!" Pansy called, though she wasn't really sure why she bothered to speak to Peony when she was already walking away. She froze in place, wondering why she _was_ so stupid as Peony stopped and turned in her spot.

Dark eyes raked over her petite form and Pansy tried not to squirm under her sister's severe and cold stare.

"Is that what you're wearing? Although, I suppose it really doesn't matter. You'll look like a wart no matter what you put on," Peony stated in deadpan, looking at Pansy as if she was muck on the bottom of her shoe before turning once more to march away.

Pansy felt her stomach filling with heat. She felt like a kettle set to boil, and was just at the point of blowing her top.

"Why are you so mean to me?!" Pansy cried, unable to stop herself. She felt so angry, and humiliated and tired of her sister, and somehow all the months she'd been ignored and spared her sister's tongue had only seemed to make her more sensitive.

Turning around once more, Peony raised a brow at Pansy... an expression Pansy was now sure that the older girl had picked up from their Head of House.

"Mean?" Peony asked with a cold and mirthless laugh. "You think I'm mean to you?! You're such a little whiny wimp, Pansy. Such a spoiled little brat. What I do and say to you is nothing... _nothing_... to what Prim has ever done to me. Just be grateful you didn't have to grow up with that sadistic bitch."

And with that, Peony finally walked away, leaving Pansy behind and shaking with anger, tears of confusion in her eyes.

Wiping them away furiously she told herself, _She'll only be here two more years. And then she'll be gone, just like Prim. And then I'll have all of mummy and daddy's attention to myself, and no one to bother me. _

With that thought in mind, Pansy squared her shoulders and raised her chin, stalking back up the corridor to join the rest of her family.

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Reviews would be appreciated. :)


	3. Megan Jones

**Prompts:** Stutter (#264), coffee.

_**Megan Jones**_

She couldn't help it, the stutter. Not when she was looking into his eyes. They were light, like amber and so full of kindness and something that looked so much like warmth and amusement.

But his smile didn't really seem to touch his eyes.

Megan didn't really understand it. When everyone was going crazy over Lockhart the previous year and yet with this man, so wonderful and sweet...

No one really looked twice at him, unless it was to comment on his shabby clothes, or about how sick he seemed.

But Megan didn't care. He was so handsome with his light colored locks, even peppered with grey as they were.

Blushing, Megan looked away from his handsome face, feeling her cheeks flame red.

She herself, she knew that she wasn't much to look at; she was a little overweight, with limp, dirty-blonde hair and eyes as dark and boring as coffee beans.

No one ever looked twice at her either. And for the most part, there was really no reason.

She wasn't brilliant like Granger, she wasn't gorgeous like Greengrass, and she wasn't charming like MacDougal.

She was nothing.

She was okay with that... after all, he was her Professor, it wasn't as if he could give her any particular thought.

But she was content, just to soak in his generous, good-nature and his under-rated but highly handsome features. They helped fuel her day-dreams, which made every day pass all the more quickly and his mere presence made getting up every morning something to look forward to.

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_**Review**_!


	4. Oliver Rivers

**Prompts:** Screaming Heart (#567), scared

_**Oliver Rivers**_

"So, who are you going to ask to the ball?" Justin asked, leaning back against the gold and black striped couch, a book shut in his lap as he looked over at Oliver.

Oliver felt his heart pick up it's pace as he looked away from the brunette boy beside him.

"I... I don't know," Oliver replied, licking his lips as he nervously turned the page in his book and hoped that his friend wouldn't notice. "How about you?"

Justin went pink around the ears but twisted his hands in his lap, though there was a smile on his face. "I already asked Susan to go with me and she agreed."

Oliver smiled at Justin, feeling sincerely glad for his friend.

"Oh yeah? I didn't know. How did that go?"

As Oliver listened to his friend talk, not wishing to embarrass him, he couldn't help wishing that it was really as simple as that for him.

In truth, he didn't know who to ask or go with because... he wasn't interested in any of the girls at Hogwarts. Sure he knew which ones were pretty, and even got along with a fair few but none of them made his heart race or his palms sweaty.

Not like...

His heart picked up and he felt his cheeks flush as he thought of Wayne Hopkins, with his crooked smirk and his half-lidded eye- pools of the warmest hazel.

Sometimes in class, he thought of walking up to the boy, or just holding his hand. But... how did the wizarding world view _that_ kind of thing?

Oliver wasn't really sure, but given blood prejudice, he didn't think wizarding society would take to it and couldn't help feeling scared about being so different. Scared of even letting on to his friends.

"You know, you better ask someone... before all the pretty ones as gone," Justin advised as he finished.

"Ask who what?" a deep voice popped up and Oliver felt his heart stutter and his eyes widened. He turned slightly and could see pale, exposed forearms with slightly bulged out veins. Arms that somehow looked lean but strong just the same.

Slowly, trying to calm his breathing and his heart, he looked up and stared at the sharp, handsome profile of Wayne Hopkins as he leant against the back of the couch and stared between him and Justin.

"I was just telling Oliver that he should ask someone to the dance before all the pretty girls are taken," Justin replied easily, sending a teasing smile at Oliver who felt his stomach flip as Wayne turned to regard him with his hazel eyes.

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Wayne asked, staring down into Oliver's brown gaze and causing the boy to run his hand through his own straight, brown locks nervously.

"Um.. no... not... not really."

"Hey, relax mate," Wayne replied, placing a hand on Oliver's back and squeezing his shoulder painfully, which only caused Oliver to spiral into further panic. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared!" Oliver retorted, lying through his teeth while his skin prickled beneath Wayne's large, warm hand. Shrugging the other boy off, he instead turned away and went back to his book. "I'm just... not really sure who to ask."

"Well, no one says you have to go with a date. And honestly, if you go alone, it isn't a big deal. If you were a girl, that would be a different story."

"Who are you going with?" Oliver asked, turning now to look at Wayne, hoping that he sounded as nonchalant as he wished and that his face would stop feeling warm.

"I asked a boy from Beauxbaton," Wayne replied and Oliver felt his eyes widen and his lungs feel like the air had been punched out of them.

"A... a... boy?" Oliver asked, causing Wayne to turn to him and narrow his eyes.

"Yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

Oliver shook his head, turning to look at Justin who also looked a bit surprised.

"Aren't you worried what people might say?" Justin asked, though he merely sounded curious, his expression open and sincere.

"I don't care what people will say. It's my life and I'm going to live it the way I want."

Oliver turned away at that and opened his book, trying to ignore the ache in his heart, wishing he were as brave as Wayne. Wishing it was him that was going with Wayne.

"Did you ask him or did he ask you?" Oliver couldn't help asking, though he didn't look up form his book.

"He asked me," he replied. "Why?"

"No reason," Oliver murmured as he stared at the words before him not taking them in.

_Doesn't matter. It's not like Wayne could ever be attracted to me anyway. After all, I'm plain and boring as he's so handsome, and bold._

Oliver just wished his heart would stop screaming.

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_**Review Please!**_


	5. Terry Boot

**Prompts:** Get Over It (#328), okay.

_**Terry Boot**_

Terry wasn't certain why his long legs were taking him to the library.

Yes, he was late for study group with the other Ravenclaws in his year, but in truth, he wasn't sure if he would be able to concentrate. His head felt as if it had been filled with water, his heart ached, his throat felt like his he'd swallowed his own fist and it gotten stuck there and he wasn't even sure how he was breathing when he felt as if the castle's battlements had fallen on his chest.

He supposed his body was on auto-pilot, following his routine mindlessly, when the day had turned out to be anything but ordinary.

Terry didn't even notice that he'd arrived at the library and navigated his way to the table of his fellow Ravenclaws until addressed by his best friend.

"You're late," Anthony Goldstein teased.

Terry blinked his dark blue eyes for a moment before staring down into Anthony's light brown eyes, into which his golden curls were falling into.

Terry merely nodded his head absently as he dropped into the seat that Anthony had reserved for him. But he didn't move once seated to pull out his materials and merely sat, staring blankly before him.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Ravenclaws at the table to notice, as each slowly looked up, the sound of scratching quills ceasing.

"What's wrong with you?" Morag MacDougal asked, ever the most impatient, straight-forward and even impertinent one out of all the Ravenclaws.

"Nothing," Terry replied, though he had to clear his throat, and his voice came out as uncertain as he felt.

In truth, he wasn't okay. He should be he supposed, because Tracey had a point in saying that school relationships really weren't all that serious, and yet he still felt like he was going to be ill. Like he wanted nothing more to do than crawl into bed and curl onto his side and fall asleep. Preferably until he could either forget to feel, or forget Tracey Davis existed.

"Are you sure, Terry? You don't look well," Lisa Turpin piped in from her seat next to Morag and across from Anthony, her thin brows furrowed in concern over her large brown eyes.

Terry didn't respond as he forced himself to pick up his bag and dig through it.

"Yeah," he replied, not looking up as he pulled things from his bag, not really certain why he was bothering. Maybe he thought that if he pretended that everything was normal, he might start to feel okay again.

But how could he feel okay, when the best thing that he was sure had happened to him in his life so far, was over?

Terry wasn't a romantic. He was too pragmatic for that sort of thing, not to mention a _boy_. Rationally, he knew there were things that were far more important than girlfriends.

But reading books and spending time with his friends, didn't quite compare to spending time beside Tracey.

He couldn't help the visceral reaction of clenching his hands, accidentally snapping his quill to keep control of his emotions when her face popped up before his mind.

Tracey was easily one of the most gorgeous girls he'd ever seen. From her waist-length, wavy, thick auburn hair, to her forrest green eyes, and her full, raspberry colored lips- he didn't know how anyone would ever compare.

But it wasn't just her looks- which set her so far out of his league- that he found so attractive.

She was funny, if in a dark, sarcastic and somewhat morbid sort of way.

And she was smart, smarter than any of the other Slytherin girls, even if she didn't try very hard.

And though she rarely smiled, usually looking quite bored and having one of those jaded spirits- when she did smile, he thought it rivaled the sun.

"Did Davis dump you?" Terry inhaled sharply, even as he looked up and glared at Morag whom he'd never cared for very much. The red-headed, scottish girl could be quite the bitch. "She did, didn't she?" Morag asked, her bright blue eyes looking at him shrewdly.

"I'm sorry, Terry," Lisa expressed, her face contorted with empathy and concern.

Beside him, Anthony didn't say anything and Terry looked at his best friend, wondering if his friend might have anything encouraging to say. If there was anything that would remove this lead weight from the pit of his stomach.

Anthony merely looked at him with a sad smile but turned away.

"Why did she... break up with you?" Padma asked from Anthony's other side, trying to be as delicate as possible.

Terry ran his fingers through his short, black hair and slouched into his seat, a feat that was of some difficult considering his height.

"She said that our relationship had run it's course, that she was bored and wanted her options open for the Yule Ball," Terry replied, swallowing the emotion in his throat as he shut his eyes and sighed, tilting his head back. Behind his closed lids, he could feel tears burning, and cursed because he didn't want to feel like this, much less show it to anyone.

"I warned you Davis is a bitch. You're better off without her," Morag stated roughly, and Terry wanted so much to tell her that he didn't need to hear a damn 'I told you so', though he wasn't entire sure that Morag wasn't trying to help in her own tactless way. But then, he'd never really been that close to _Morag_.

"I can't believe she said that to you," Lisa stated from where she sat, her voice soft and filled with incredulity.

"What did you tell her?" Padma asked.

Terry didn't respond immediately, prompting Morag to butt in, "I certainly hoped you didn't look like a kicked puppy like you do now."

Terry cracked his eyes open and glared at Morag.

"I told her I agreed," Terry responded through gritted teeth, but in truth, he hadn't wanted to tell her that. But what choice had he had? She'd broken up with him in the middle of a corridor after she was exiting Divination and Greengrass was hanging around behind her, watching the entire humiliating thing unfold.

If they weren't in a corridor teeming with Slytherins, if the blonde Ice Queen hadn't been sticking so close by, he might have begged or yelled at Tracey asking her how she could so coolly dismiss four mouths as if they were absolutely nothing.

"Well, at least you kept your dignity," Morag conceded.

"You're such a bitch, Morag," Lisa suddenly stated, drawing everyone's attention while she glared at Morag in annoyance.

Morag glared back at Lisa.

"I'm trying to help."

"You're not being helpful at all. You're just being callous!" Lisa retorted.

"Well excuse me, but I'm not the one that was stupid enough to date a Slytherin. Terry should've known better and should just get over it."

Not being able to take listening to anymore of their crap, Terry packed up his things, wondering again why he'd bothered to show up.

"Terry, don't go," Anthony tried.

"Yeah, Morag will shut up," Lisa tried as well, looking at him imploringly.

"Yes, Terry. Studying will help you get your mind off things," Padma added, nodding her head.

Terry wanted to retort that as none of them had ever dated, much less been in a relationship, that they didn't know anything, much less what would make him feel better. But he refrained. No matter how he was feeling, he didn't have it in him to be so rude. He was raised better than that.

"I'll just see you guys later," Terry replied, turning to leave.

As he did so, all too aware of the Ravenclaws watching his back, he wondered how long he was going to feel like this and if there was any magical means to make it stop.

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**A/n: **Sorry about the long wait. Was unsure what to write next.

Anyway, please Review.


	6. Blaise Zabini

**Prompt:** Three Dead Hearts (#551), interested.

_**Blaise Zabini**_

Blaise was observant. Not something he was often credited for, as his famous mother, his incredibly good looks and his misogyny often took precedence. But he supposed it was better that way.

Slytherins were fascinating creatures to observe. And he felt himself, much to his consternation, quite interested in one Slytherin in particular.

She was beyond the trifecta of things that he most hated in the world- an intelligent, beautiful, half-blood witch.

Really, he wanted to hate her from the start and to an extent, he'd shown much disdain towards her.

Infuriatingly enough, Tracey Davis didn't give a damn what other people thought of her which took much of the pleasure out of antagonizing her, but didn't do anything to douse the loathing.

He wasn't sure when or how their unofficial, competition had started to win the crown for Heart-Breaker of their time. And admittedly, Trace did an admirable job keeping up, collecting as many, if not more, broken hearts.

But it wasn't merely Tracey whom he was interested in, but rather the love-triangle she was unwittingly at the very point of.

Anyone looking at Daphne Greengrass would think the girl was made of ice, and that inside her chest instead of a heart, there was a rotting and festering corpse.

Blaise didn't think anyone else knew or noticed. Everyone just rather thought that it was unfortunate that the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts happened to be the so frigid and cruel, that any male that might be interested, withered under her pale blue gaze and all interest was quickly forgotten. It didn't help that she had a vicious, forked tongue that was quick to lash out like a whip with metal tips.

But Blaise knew better. Daphne's heart certainly beat, but only for Tracey Davis who was wholly unaware- or pretended to be unaware.

And then, there was Theodore Nott, Tracey's other best friend. A boy so incapable of expressing emotion, grey eyes so dull, skin so pale, that if it weren't for his staggering intelligence, he might be confused for a zombie.

Theodore Nott, whose eyes followed Tracey from behind whatever book his nose was buried in. There was a boy that would never let another get too close to Tracey.

Not that Tracey would ever let anyone close enough to touch her heart.

Blaise wasn't sure what exactly Tracey's problem was, he knew that she was not as heartless as she appeared... it was simply not possible for a girl with two such devoted companions, to be so heartless, or else, why would they stick around? Why would they chase away the boyfriends that lasted more than a couple months when Tracey didn't seem to show signs of getting bored yet?

They hoped.

That was their problem.

Blaise had long ago discarded hope. Like Tracey, he knew that love wasn't real, that it wasn't worth the bother to be so fooled and humiliated by believing in it.

It was morbid fascination, that kept him watching.

Oh he knew Daphne didn't stand a chance... Tracey had never shown even the remotest interested in the fairer sex.

But Blaise wasn't sure that Theodore would fair any better in winning Tracey's heart, even if he happened to be the right sex.

But Blaise was sure whatever the fallout, it was sure to be entertaining.

Perhaps even by the end, there really _would_ be three _dead_ hearts.

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**A/n:** All these stories play out in the same "Universe" and are not in chronological order and do sort of connect (or at least some may reference back to another- as in the Tracey referred to here is the same Tracey as the one that broke up with Terry Boot).

Review please!


	7. Seamus Finnigan

**Prompt:** Caged Hopes (#570), sad.

_**Seamus Finnigan**_

_He_ was dating Ginny Weasley. And it was hard at first, when the strange burning had started up in his stomach, the fury that forced his hands to clench every time he saw them together.

Seamus wasn't sure what was wrong with him. Or perhaps he was lying to himself.

Like he lied to himself about the fact that the reason he couldn't draw his gaze away from Oliver Wood was because the older boy was such an excellent Quidditch player.

But the anger that was really an extension of jealousy, faded away leaving in its place something hollow... something broken and sharp.

Seamus wasn't sure he'd ever felt _sad_ before.

Life at home wasn't exactly easy. He wasn't really sure his father had ever acclimated to the fact that both he and his mother were magical, and the old man liked to drink. Of course, he wasn't abusive, at least not physically. Nor really verbally. But the fights were always loud, and in some way or other, it always came back to magic.

But even so, Seamus hadn't really cared. That was simply his life. To him it was perfectly normal and he was quite aware, at least going from rumors, that he probably had it much better than Medea Runcorn and Sophie Roper.

But this... this ache in his chest was new and certainly persistent.

Seamus wasn't sure why. He'd put that bird Hope in a cage long ago, even before he knew what he was hoping for. Even before he realized what his best friend really meant to him.

But now the bird was dead in it's cage, and Seamus thought that left a hole somewhere inside him.

Because even if he had a chance in hell with Dean, Seamus wasn't sure he would take it.

That's just one more identity marker that he didn't need his father to know about. Things could really only get worse.

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Review please!


	8. Gregory Goyle

**Prompts:** choice (#516), hate.

_**Gregory Goyle**_

He was supposed to follow in his father's footsteps, but Gregory didn't _want_ his life.

To be nothing more than a lackey. To be forced to stand body guard over a pompous little ferret. He could feel his hate festering, growing as the years went on. Feel it building under his skin.

But was there any choice in the matter?

Not really.

It was why he swallowed it all up. After all, he didn't want to end up like Medea Runcorn, or Theodore Nott.

It was stifling, smothering even, but it might have been better than the alternative.

Gregory wasn't even sure how Medea or Theodore could stand it, all the sadistic abuse for years. All because they dared to defy the plans of their fathers and follow their own desires... but somehow _they_ managed to carry on.

Gregory was ashamed, that he wasn't half as brave as a bloody girl, and the damn twig of a genius.

But he knew, his day was come. He was sure of it. The day when he would step out of his Draco Malfoy's shadow, and his father's footsteps be surpassed.

He was a Slytherin _too_. He could be patient. He could wait.

His moment would come to strike.

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**Review Please!**


	9. Anthony Goldstein

**Prompts:** Guilt (#622), eyes.

_**Anthony Goldstein**_

He shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong. It wasn't like him. He wasn't like this. He was a good friend.

But it was hard to resist. Her lips tasted like the sweetest strawberries. They were so soft, and plump and the way she pressed and then pulled away, forcing him to follow to keep contact... it was the sweetest kind of torture.

He wasn't sure how he'd ended up here. He'd just been to the library quite late studying when she came up to him.

"_I've always wanted to touch your hair. It's so curly and looks so soft,_" she stated when she'd stepped up next to him, her naturally sultry voice always so soothing as she proceeded to comb her fingers through his golden curls.

He wasn't sure how, but it had felt wonderful. And the way her short nails scraped lightly against his scalp had sent shivers of pleasure racing down his spine, and made his lower abdomen tighten.

It wasn't really his fault, he wanted to think. He was a fourteen year old boy, and Tracey Davis was gorgeous with the most stunning, jade eyes he'd ever seen.

She'd initiated the kiss too, completely startling him.

And now she was sitting in his lap, legs on either side of him, his arms wound of their own accord around her tiny waist, one of his hands stuck in the long, lustrous locks of dark auburn.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" Tracey asked, using her hand still lodged in his curls to pull him away from her lips so that she could speak, her voice huskier as she pressed her lips together and licked them.

Anthony shook his head, cheeks burning from the passion of her kisses, from the feel of her hot tongue inside his mouth and forcing his body temperature to rocket.

And then she smirked, while still staring at him with half-lidded eyes and Anthony wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything sexier.

"You're really good, must be a natural," she complimented before leaning in again and initiating another earth-shattering, mind-melting kiss.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Anthony spoke drunkenly, his eyes refusing to open as he tried to pull his lips away from her voracious ones, his hands trying to tug-push her away by the waist without throwing her. "You're dating Terry."

Tracey sighed, standing up and Anthony tried not to miss her warmth but failed terribly.

"You're right. I just couldn't help myself," she said with an almost shy smile that didn't touch her eyes, as she shrugged.

And just like that, she was gone, barely giving him a wave an a smile before waltzing away, leaving a very stunned boy, with guilt quickly settling into his stomach.

How was he supposed to tell his best friend he made out with his girlfriend?

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**A/n:** Special thanks to _yellow 14_ for taking the time to review! I'm glad someone is reading and enjoying these drabbles. :) I really appreciate hearing from you.

_**Remember to review!**_


	10. Morag MacDougal

**Prompts:** Tears (#505), scream

_**Morag MacDougal**_

Morag was boiling with anger as she stomped into her dorm and slammed the door shut behind her.

"What's _your_ problem?"

Morag turned to glare at the blonde addressing her, and was going to snap at her to mind her own business but her mouth took off with her on another tangent. Apparently to preoccupied to care about anything or anyone else.

"He broke up with me!" She yelled indignantly. "For fucking Ginny Weasley!"

"Who?" Padma asked, and Morag turned to glare at the dark-haired girl who was exiting the girl's bathroom, drying her long hair.

"Who bloody else?! Michael!" Morag snapped back. "What does that Weasley brat have that I don't? She's nothing but a freckly, flat-chested, tomboy who is obsessed with Potter! She doesn't even have a personality!"

"She's not a bitch?" Lisa proposed, though she more muttered it under her breath. Morag turned to glare at the blonde, ready to tear the other girl's hair out.

Perhaps sensing this, Padma intervened. Something she and Sue Li often had to do between the blonde and red-head.

"Maybe you're better off, sweetie," Padma stated in empathetic tones. "You're too good for him."

"Why are you so angry anyway?" Lisa asked, sitting up from where she'd been laying on her stomach reading a book on her bed. Her chin-length, straight blonde hair pinned back by clips. "I thought you said that you were going to dump him because he was such an awful date at the Yule Ball."

"Yeah, _I_ was going to dump _him_! He wasn't supposed to dump _me_! And he did it in front of our entire House! He didn't even pull me aside to do it in private!" Morag wailed, her face burning red as she recalled the humiliation she just suffered moments before. She could begin to feel tears prickling in her eyes.

But Morag MacDougal did _not_ cry!

In truth, Michael was no big loss. He was a bit of a shallow git, and Morag had truthfully started to get quite bored with him after she got over his looks.

But it hurt her pride grievously, damn it, to be chucked for the likes of Ginny Weasley by _Michael Corner!_

Instantly both Lisa and Padma were on either side of her, wrapping her up in a hug.

"It's okay, hon," Padma consoled.

"Yeah. We'll just do something really mean and humiliate him for doing this to you," Lisa consoled and Morag couldn't help her spirits lifting slightly and a laugh being ripped on her.

She had to admit, though she often got into spats with Lisa, and Padma sometimes could be quite the nag, she did appreciate her friends now and again.

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_**Review please!**_


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